


The Hex pt. 10

by RockSaltandCherryPie



Series: The Hex [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Sexual Themes, Soulmates, Temporarily Female Sam, Violence, Wincest - Freeform, mature themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1732529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockSaltandCherryPie/pseuds/RockSaltandCherryPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The final installment of this series.<br/>Does Sam find the book? Does Dean make it to the club to help Sam and change him back to his true self? What the heck happens?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hex pt. 10

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the final part of this series/verse!  
> I realize now it's kind of an AU because of what canonically happens at the end of S9, but anyway.  
> I feel so accomplished. This series was something I'd been wanting to write out for a while now, but that kept changing around in my head. So it's finally good to have it all out and complete and to share it on here.  
> I hope you all enjoyed this series as much as I did writing it. Thanks for reading!
> 
> Song playing at the club, fyi: [link](http://grooveshark.com/s/Crush+I+Would+Die+For+You/4Y4OSH?src=5)

Sam barely slept a wink that night.

He had too many nightmares that kept waking him up in cold sweats. He watched himself drowning, kept trying to pull himself out of the water but he couldn't, was too weak. He watched himself burning, even, trapped in some house that was going up in flames. He couldn't save himself. And every time he woke up he felt so alone and confused. Why was he still there? Where was Dean?

Dean was the only thought that gave him comfort. He thought of Dean's stupid childish smile, his lame jokes, his arms wrapped around him, his familiar smell—gunpowder and leather—and his mind eased.

 

The next day, the same thing happened all over again: each of the girls were given breakfast and lunch delivered to their rooms, and at precisely eight o'clock at night they all started to slowly prep themselves for the night. There was actually a lineup towards the back end of the hall where the bathrooms were to use the showers. Sam got in line and the blonde girl—who finally introduced herself as _Blondie_ , go figure—came up behind him.

"Hey, there, hon," she said to him. "So how was your first night on the job? I saw you out there, you were working it. Usually girls look really sloppy and half-assed out there on their first night, y'know? Not you."

Sam didn't know whether he should be grateful or humiliated.

 

Sam only had one chance to slip away to look for the book again and it was right after he got all done up for a second time, just before they were set to go out and "entertain." He had thought about it overnight, and he had decided to look over Kaleb's room again for hidden compartments or anything else he might have missed. The music had already begun to blare in the main room, heavy beats that resonated throughout the whole house, continuous and bassy. Sam glanced up the dark staircase to make sure Kaleb's room was unoccupied, then silently crept up, trying not to trip on wobbly heels.

He turned drawers over, scoured the corners of the closet, felt under the slats of the bed, and still nothing. It wasn't until he sat on the edge of Kaleb's bed that he decided to feel around under the pillows just in case, and when he did, his hand hit something hard. He pulled out the book and almost scoffed at how easy that was. It was barely even hidden. Just stowed away somewhere in a space only Kaleb occupied. He turned it over in his hand, feeling the leather spine under his fingertips. The object of his desire, right there in his hands.

"Alex, what are you doing in here?" Sam heard someone squeak. He looked up, startled, and saw Blondie's dark silhouette in the doorway.

"Uh..." Sam held the book to his back and stood up off the bed.

"C'mon! If Kaleb catches you he'll _kill_ you!" She ushered him out, and Sam didn't even have time to stash the book away somewhere in his room. Blondie led him in line with the rest of the girls walking to the main room. He panicked, looking all over as he trailed behind for where he could hide it for the time being. Blondie had him by the hand.

Just as all the girls came out into the main room dominated by smoky red air and booming dirty music, Sam darted behind the bar and slotted the book in between dusty bottles stacked side by side on the shelf hidden from view. Unless someone went back there, and Sam hadn't recalled anyone being there the previous night, they wouldn't be able to see it. Sam managed to pop back out around it without being noticed. All of the men were too busy chatting it up or watching the other girls dance.

Kaleb came out of nowhere and stroked Sam's cheek. Sam looked down, putting his hair behind his ear in feigned bashfulness.

"Alex... My dear... I'm expecting a very special guest for you tonight. I want you to entertain him and make him feel very, _very_ comfortable. Got that?"

Sam's eyes widened a little, but he swallowed and nodded.

 _One more night, Sam,_ he told himself, _just one more night of this charade._

 

xxx

 

Dean and Farrah found the address at night, around half past eleven. Dean turned the engine off and looked over the dashboard at the number on the side of the house. It had to be some sort of mistake. The neighborhood was dead and abandoned. Not even the street lights worked. Both sides of the street were lined with dodgy townhouses, small even by uptown standards. Dean couldn't imagine what Kaleb would be doing with Sam in a place like this. After they geared up, Dean and Farrah walked up to the front door of house number 29. They couldn't see through the windows, they were barred by wooden planks. Dean exchanged a look with Farrah and she shrugged.

Dean turned the knob and opened the door. Immediately, a rush of loud music flooded out, a gritty beat blaring. They walked in and the place was a goddamn club. Like, lights, music, people, a bar, dancing, the works. And it was huge. Well, it was definitely not the interior of a shabby townhouse in the middle of nowhere.

Farrah eyed Dean, who only stared around wide-eyed and mesmerized.

"Magic, man..." he said, shaking his head.

She nodded.

He narrowed his eyes and looked around at the crowd, at each face. The more Dean took in, the more he realized what exactly was going on here. It was all men, sitting around at tables or on chairs or lounging by the candle-lined bar having drinks. Every other man was accompanied by an attractive female companion dressed in a skimpy lacy outfit, hair and makeup all done up, either dancing for him, sitting on his lap, or whispering in his ear. The more Dean saw, the hotter his blood got. _Where was Sam?..._

"Dean Winchester." A hand slapped on Dean's back. He turned to see Kaleb's familiar tight-lipped face looking smugger than usual. "I've been expecting you."

Dean knocked him away and grabbed ahold of his suit coat roughly. "Have you? Where's my brother you son of a bitch?"

Kaleb smirked. "An associate of mine informed me you were trying to find me."

Dean bit his tongue.

"It's okay. I'm glad you're here." Kaleb's voice was as smooth as a snake's.

"What did you do to him?!" Dean shouted over the music.

Kaleb chuckled deep, and it crawled right under Dean's skin. "Absolutely nothing. As a matter of fact, he's fine. He's right over there." Kaleb nodded over towards the bar, and Dean's eyes followed his.

At first, Dean wasn't sure where Kaleb was looking. But then he saw it. He saw _her._ The beautiful brunette on the bar, swaying her hips to the beat and running her hands all through her hair, tangling it, getting it all messy. Black boots laced up to her knees, skin-tight, her black and red get-up showcasing her smooth thighs and the curve of her small waist. She had on a deep crimson lipstick and dark shadow all around her eyes. Her hair kept tossing in front of her face. Her lean body curved and pulsated with the music. A crowd of men pooled around her, looking up at her, utterly entranced.

Sam was a woman. I mean, he was a woman before but now he was... _all_ woman... it seemed.

Oh god, Sam was...

Dean started slowly towards Sam, eyes transfixed, body rigid.

"Oh and Dean," Kaleb added from behind him. "Please call her Alex. Poor dear will be _so_ confused otherwise."

The music pounded in Dean's ears along with all of his blood, his fists clenched tightly by his side as he walked to the center of the room. Sam got off the bar and strut towards him through the smoky red haze. Their eyes locked and time slowed down as Dean took in the sight of his brother. His beautiful, unfortunate kid brother who had transformed completely into this... into this heartache of a woman. A lump formed in his throat. This was never supposed to...

She wormed her bare naked shoulders around to the music, right there in front of Dean, her eyes rooted on him. The crowd parted and watched her, watched them both. She was inches from his face now, Dean could see her light eyes encompassed completely by cat-like black charcoal makeup and strings of her brown hair falling in front of them. She wrapped her arms around his neck and danced like a professional, swinging back and forth and brushing up against him. Her breath landed on his neck, hot and sweet. Dean couldn't move. Couldn't even breathe.

_Sammy..._

He was too late.

This was it. They failed. _He_ failed. He made a promise and he failed his baby brother.

She turned around and pressed her back flush to his chest, holding him against her. She ground against him, hips flicking back and forth. Dean was burning up from head to toe, suffocating with everything he was feeling. She took his hands and placed them on her hips as she moved, but he couldn't do anything except stand there. His shaky hands slid up her slick heated thighs, all the way up to her waist. It was petite and rocked expertly. Dean bit something back, could have been a scream, could have been bile, could have been a sob. But he held her even as she continued her motion and kept the rhythm. He wanted to hold on forever. Too soon, she spun around in his hold and held on to his shoulders, snaking her way down his body and then back up. Her red lips came up in front of his and her tongue licked a wet stripe up his slack mouth. When she pulled away, Dean tried to look into those dark eyes and search for even a glimpse of familiarity. A glimpse of his brother. He got lost in the depths of her pupils and found nothing.

Sam was gone. It was too late.

"Sammy..." he whispered, straining against the liquid that filled his eyes and made everything blurry.

He held her again, pulling her waist in and stroking lightly with his thumbs. For a second she slowed her movements to a stop, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, lips pressed up behind his ear.

"I'm sorry..." Dean whispered softly into her hair.

She breathed into his neck and then spun around, whipping out of his grasp. She walked towards the bar then wiggled her finger, beckoning him to follow as she walked backwards the rest of the way to it, back into the canopy of scattered bodies. Dean obeyed, his eyes never leaving her. She sat on the bar and parted her thighs a little, leaning back on her wrists, her chest and shoulders unravelling and glowing pink. Dean stepped closer slowly and watched her writhe on the bar, her head tossing back, her lips parted. Deft hips pushed up and down on the bar to the pulsating music, neck titled and exposed.

Dean came in between her legs and she pulled him in, wrapping thin arms around his neck again. Dean slid damp palms up her thighs, his fingers digging in. She leaned back on her elbows, her legs bringing Dean down a little. He held on to the bar and vaguely noticed her reaching behind herself. She pressed against him again and fumbled around under his shirt and then something hard dug into his skin. He felt it. It was a book.

Sam's eyes flickered with knowing assurance and Dean felt hands tipping the book under the waistband of his jeans. Dean's eyes widened. _Was this the spell book? THE book they had been looking for? The one that would change Sam back?_

Was Sam... _Still Sam?!_

Dean's eyes narrowed on Sam's, so close, pools of green holding his gaze. Sam's eyes darted briefly to the left, and Dean's followed. He took in a few doors leading to different rooms far off at the back of the club. Then Sam turned Dean's face back and devoured his mouth, wet and messy and deep, just as the music faded out and the song finished.

 

xxx

 

Sam made his way through the crowd, making a bee-line straight for Kaleb. His heart was still racing from seeing Dean here, from dancing with him— _for_ him, like Alex—and pretending he didn't know who he was. He had to hide his relief at the good fortune he had been given that Dean came _this_ night, the night where he hid the book _right there_ within reach. Kaleb was watching their every move—Sam saw him from the corner of his eye, standing there, looming in the shadows. He was watching the whole time, probably satisfied with himself, except for a brief window of time when Sam managed to bring Dean over to the bar and stash the book under his shirt. He was sure Kaleb hadn't seen that. But he had looked back at them after the song finished so Sam moved quickly, seemingly following the orders Kaleb gave "Alex" at the beginning of the night.

"He asked for a private session," Sam said to Kaleb, raising his brow trying to look smug and indifferent, and shifted his weight.

"Did he?" Kaleb contemplated. "Hm... I thought he might." He pet Sam's cheek, then chuckled.

"Alright. You give him a good time, my dear. Show him what you can do."

Sam nodded, smirked, and then spun on his heel and made his way to the back rooms.

 

He opened the door to the only room that didn't look occupied and went in. He saw Dean's back and shut the door quickly behind him. Dean spun around and instantly they were in each other's arms, tightly embracing. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and took in the familiar scent of his jacket, buried his nose in his neck and breathed in the leather. Dean's warmth encompassed him, squeezing his waist and heaving softly in the crook of his shoulder.

"I thought I lost you," Dean mumbled against his skin.

"I know." Sam pulled back, looked in Dean's red eyes.

Dean pulled the book out and Sam held on to it, too.

"Let's do this. Quick," Sam said, his blood bubbling with anxiety. He pushed the book against Dean's chest.

"Okay." Dean opened up the book, flipping to the page on gender transformation. Sam stripped out of his tight clothes behind an elaborately decorated panel, and returned with nothing on but a puffy white housecoat that he tied up in front of himself. Dean looked over the page and took in a deep breath. He looked up at Sam. Sam nodded reassuringly, eyes wide and waiting.

"If this doesn't work... I want you to know, Sam... I..."

"I know, Dean."

Dean stroked his cheek and Sam's watery eyes fluttered shut. "I love you, little brother."

"I love you, too."

Dean breathed in again and then looked at the words on the page and began reading. It was in a language Dean didn't recognize, but it was latin lettering so Dean sounded it out. Sam started to moan. After the first few lines, he fell on the ground, crying out in pain.

"Sam?" Dean asked in between, hesitating. _What if it wasn't working? What if it was a phony spell? Or the wrong one?_

"Keep going," Sam bit out, hands clutching the carpet and his chest.

Dean did as he said, continuing to sound out the words line by line, verse by verse. Sam screamed and lashed around. The book almost slipped out of Dean's sweaty palms but he clutched it tighter, nails digging in. He chanted out the verses louder, struggling to combat Sam's cries. Sam's voice cut off and he just made choking sounds, but Dean kept reading, vaguely seeing his brother's contorting body under the book. Just as Dean delivered the last line of the spell, he noticed Sam collapse completely. His body was swallowed up by white, the housecoat sprawled over his limp limbs. Dean tossed the book aside and knelt down by Sam's side. Brown, sweaty hair covered Sam's face. Dean put a hand on his shoulder and gently nudged him.

"Sam?" Dean looked him over. Sam's body was broader, larger. Dean pushed the strands of hair out of his face and saw, finally, his brother again—thick brows recessing delicately over still pale lids, the faintest stippling of stubble over the line of a familiarly prominent jaw bone.

They did it. They actually _did it._

"Sammy," Dean lightly shook him.He was drenched in sweat, and wasn't waking up.

Suddenly the door burst open and Dean jolted around. Kaleb was standing in the doorway, digesting the scene. His face twisted up with rage and he shouted out.

"NO!!!" He lunged for the two of them and Dean went to shield Sam, but in an instant the white of Sam's housecoat speckled with vibrant red and something hit the ground with a loud thud. Dean looked up at Kaleb's now headless body and watched it crumple to the ground. Farrah stood in the doorway, sharp blade secured tightly in her stable hand. She looked at him, at Sam, and they both knew at once that this was all over.

 

xxx

 

Sam blinked his eyes open slowly. An engine rumbled underneath him, familiar tunes softly played out of a tinny speaker. It was day. Sun reflected off the road in front of the dashboard, too bright for his eyes. The last thing he remembered was Dean reading the spell. How had he gotten here? Oh god, maybe he was dead. Cautiously, he pushed himself into an upright position and looked at his hands.

They were large and knobby. No paint on his nails. He looked down at his chest and felt it. Just lean muscle. And he was in a normal t-shirt and jeans. Excitedly, he palmed his thighs. Thick and firm.

"Done groping yourself?" Dean's voice interrupted his thoughts, and Sam looked over at his brother wide-eyed and astounded, and grinned.

"Dean, we did it!"

"Yeah, we did." Dean killed the engine in the middle of some random deserted highway because Sam was already clawing at the door, and then Sam toppled out.

He howled at the top of his lungs and laughed and spun around once, hands running through his hair, his limbs stretching out, the sun reflecting off of him.

Dean leaned up against the Impala and watched, wide smile playing on his lips. "How's it feel?"

"Amazing. _Amazing_. Dean, what happened? How'd we get out?"

"Kaleb's dead. Farrah finished him off just after I finished reading the spell."

"You serious?"

"Yeah. Said she never felt better in her life."

Sam beamed.

"What I don't get is," Dean started. "How come you didn't change, Sam? How come you didn't start believing you were... this other person?"

Sam shrugged, coming around the car, wiping his palms on his jeans.

"I don't know," he said plainly. "Guess I had a strong anchor." He gave Dean a small smirk and came up right in front of him.

Dean's heart stilled and he shut his eyes as Sam placed a small kiss on his lips. Sam's lips were soft and he smelled sweet, familiar. Dean remained frozen even as Sam pulled back bright-eyed with a cheeky grin drawing his face up.

Sam curled his lip back behind his teeth and bounced on his heel. "Let's get out of here."

Sam got in the passenger seat of the Impala and Dean just stood there in breathless wonderment. He smiled to himself and opened up the door, sliding in.


End file.
